When a Veela Cries—outtakes and rejected material
by E.C. Scrubb
Summary: The following is material that I rejected for my story. I'm posting it here for two reasons: (1) I figured some people would want to read the extra material, and (2) it would stop me from going back and re-editing the material back in, in a few places where I now wish I hadn't edited the material out. Enjoy, and leave reviews on your thoughts. I'd love to hear them.
1. Chapter 12 rejected material

**A/N**: So, I was re-reading WAVC, trying to pick up on leftovers strands and the like, when I started reading over a bunch of my rejected material. Some of it, I liked better than what ended up being in the story, and I started wondering if I shouldn't re-edit those chapters. Then, I realized how much of a headache it'd be, and I'd never get the story finished if I kept doing that. Plus, it's unfair to my readers.

So, in order to stop any stupid thoughts in the future, I decided to publish my rejected chapters here. **PLEASE NOTE: These are in various stages of editing, so the writing in a few places may be pretty bad**.

As for this first piece of rejected material, it's part of chapter 12, where Harry takes a Portkey to Durmstrang. A quick read should tell you why I rejected it.

* * *

Harry stood in a small, green meadow, surrounded by ancient forest and not much else. He looked down at the Portkey in his hand – immediately he reached for his wand. Where was he?

Hedwig had come baring the Portkey yesterday, after Harry had written to Professor Sirko regarding his attending Durmstrang. The professor, according to the letter, was kind enough to open the school to Harry and begin his training; he was to use the Portkey at 3:00 pm today.

So where was the professor?

Flashes of the graveyard kicked off in Harry's mind and he took off at a run, aiming for the nearest tree line. He reached it in a few seconds, then turned to his right and ran around the perimeter thirty or forty yards.

He stopped after finding some bushes to hide behind and looked back out across the meadow to see if anyone followed him, hoping that they would think he ran in a straight line, rather than curling back around.

He also thought about getting his robe out of his trunk, but that would entail removing the charms that had shrunk it, then recasting them afterward – two things that would slow him down if someone was after him.

A sharp crack echoed across the meadow.

Harry took another step back into the forest and raised his wand.

"Harry?" a voice cried out. "It's professor Sirko. I know you're here, this entire meadow is charmed to let us know when someone arrives."

Harry waited until he could see the professor's face before he stepped into the opening.

"Aah, Harry – good to see you."

Harry barely cleared the tree line before he stopped, wand raised. "Why were you late to lunch the last time I saw you?"

"I was spending time at the ministry watching your memories."

Harry lowered his wand, but didn't put it away, and walked up to the professor. "Why did the Portkey bring me here?"

The Professor took in the clear blue sky and distant mountains before answering. "This used to be the grounds of Durmstrang, but there are too many Muggles around now. Shortly after Grindelwald attacked the school in his war, we relocated and refused to tell anyone the location.

"Now, everyone uses a Portkey or Apparates here. Durmstrang staff meets them and escorts them to the new location." He gestured towards the wood and three older teenagers stepped into the clearing.

The wizard was tall, probably 6' 2" and at least fourteen stone. He had brown hair and a rough complexion that the Veela on his left seemed quite attracted to; judging by the way she was attached to his arm. Harry looked over to the other witch and realized that she too, was a Veela.

"Who are they?" he asked.

"Seventh Years. The two on your left are our equivalent of your head-boy and head-girl. The other witch is the same as one of your seventh-year prefects. They were at school today, so I asked them to come with me to greet you."

"By watching me in the woods?"

"I wanted to know how you would respond to unfamiliar surroundings." Professor addressed the wizard approaching them. "So what do you think?"

Markus made a show of looking from the tips of Harry's toes all the way to the top of his head, then settled into eye-contact as he spoke. "_Sehr gut, mein Freund_," he said as he extended a hand to Harry.

Harry shook it, noticing the strong but restrained grip.

"His instincts are excellent, Professor. It took maybe a second before he drew his vand, another couple seconds and he was running to the tree line." He pointed where Harry had entered the trees. "He surprised me by coming out over there."

The professor looked down at Harry. "Impressive. Markus is German. His parents served in the Magical Bulgarian government as Aurors and are training him for the same job. It seems to be a family profession. He will be one of your dueling partners this year."

"I looked forward to it, Harry Potter." Markus gave him a slight grin. "Ve vill get to know each other much this year, I think."

Harry nodded as the professor continued the introductions. "And this is Azzurra, our female prefect."

Up close, Azzurra was stunning. Offset by slightly olive skin and pink lips, her eyes were the deepest yet clearest blue eyes he'd ever seen. They had to be the reason behind her name.

"_Buon giorno, signore. _It is very nice to meet you," she greeted him.

And paired with a slight Italian accent? This Markus was a very lucky wizard.

"Hello, Azzurra, nice to meet you too." Harry shook her hand and tore his eyes away from her, not wanting to stare.

"And this, is Jaleena." Professor Sirko finished the introductions.

Jaleena smiled at Harry, but the smile darkened quickly. "_Er trägt neue Verletzungen und. . _." she stepped in to Harry and breathed in deeply. "You have been around a Veela that cares for you."

"I guess," Harry answered, too surprised to say anything else.

She was about to respond when Professor Sirko interrupted them. "We should get back to the school and let Harry get settled."

He produced another Portkey and activated it. The five of them found a place to touch the foot long stick and Harry found himself being yanked off his feet again.

* * *

Yeah. Pretty horrible. I was trying to show Harry learning from his battles, but there would have been no reason for him to think about circling back, let alone learning how to walk/run in the woods, etc. Also, the entire scene was just flat, with little to no push for the story itself. So I cut it.

The next scene is familiar, but since I cut out Azzurra already meeting Harry, I had to change this scene for what was eventually published. What follows is the original stuff:

* * *

An hour later, Harry had finished unpacking. Each bed had a full-sized desk next to it, complete with lamp and chair. There were four beds in this room, two sitting against the wall that ran against the back of the castle, and two that sat against the opposing wall of their dorm room. One bed and desk was already occupied with someone's personal items, so Harry took the opposite bed, as far away from the doorway as possible.

Harry wondered if the same company supplied beds to all magical schools.

With the unpacking finished, he settled into reading the works by Shelley that he had taken from the Delacour home (with permission). One particular passage had confused him, and he was intent on learning it for a reason he couldn't identify.

"Harry?" A female voice called, "How are you getting on?"

He looked back over his shoulder from his desk to see Azzurra glide into the room, looking more like an angel than a human being. Her hair was gently swaying in a non-existent breeze as her supple body was backlit in a soft glow. Harry wanted to spill all his secrets to her, even brag that he'd fought the Dark Lord – defeated him three times now without any help.

Instead, he bit down on his tongue and commanded himself to stay in the moment. "Fine, I think. I'm unpacked at least."

Azzurra giggled and sat down on the bed next to him. "You are very impressive."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "How's that?"

"Well, you are fifteen years old, I think, right?"

Harry nodded.

"Most men twice your age can't hold a conversation with me until after they've spent almost a month here, and that's only if they spend time with me every day."

"Oh." Harry marked the place in his book and put it down.

"Be prepared, Harry. There are a quite a few Veela around here, even a few full Veela like me that would love to spend time with a young Wizard who can look past their attraction. Add to that the fact that you're very handsome, have good tone, and those _Vulgaire_ clothes make your _culo _look very nice, and you just may be in trouble."

"_Culo?_ Do I even want to know. . . ."

"I believe you Brits call it your 'arse'." She paused for a second. "And blushes as well? You are in trouble."

Harry cursed the fact that every woman he met lately seemed to enjoy making him do that.

"I think I'll hide up here all year," he mumbled.

"Why? What's wrong with having a few Veela chasing you?" she teased.

Harry couldn't answer and his expression twisted into something half-way between sadness and hurt.

Azzurra leaned her head a little to the side. "I sense a story that is not happy, and probably has to do with a witch. I'm sorry, Harry."

"S'okay."

The silence grew uncomfortable before harry remembered something she said. "You're a full Veela?"

"As full as it gets, and Italian on top of that."

"But, I thought that in order to become a full Veela, it had to be offered to you by the _Zekānōt_ and you had to go through the _Gegenumenou_?"

Even at the young age of fifteen, Harry knew this would probably be the only time in his life that a Veela would stare, dumbfounded at him.

"You know about us?" A second voice asked.

Harry turned to see Jaleena in the doorway. What was with Veela coming to visit him in his dorm room?

"Ahh, yeah. It was explained to me one time."

"By whom?" Jaleena asked.

"Someone that I thought cared about me," Harry answered, not able to keep a clamp on his words as he was momentarily caught up in the combined magic of both Veelas.

"What—"

Harry was relieved when Azzurra put a hand on Jaleena's arm and shook her head.

"To answer your question Harry, yes, you're right. Most Veela, like Jaleena here, must go through the ceremony in order to become full Veela. There are a small handful such as myself, that are born with all our magic already."

"Does that put you in the running to be a flock leader?" Harry asked.

Azzurra's eyes widened, "You do know much about us – and yes, it is possible," Azzurra finished in an almost purr. "You are going to have to be careful, Harry, the amount you know. . . ." She narrowed her eyes and stood up, took the two steps necessary to close the distance, and leaned over, her face inches from Harry's face. She turned to the side and placed her lips on his cheek, just after the edge of his lips, then leaned back with a disgusted look.

Jaleena gave her a confused look, then her own eyes widened in recognition. She did the same thing, then sat down on the bed next to Azzurra.

"Harry," Jaleena began. "If you have any questions this semester about anything, including Veela and relationships, feel free to come and speak with either one of us, okay?"

He was so out of his league at this point in time that Harry couldn't even grunt a response. Both Veela laughed.

"Hey! You're not leaving me for the new kid, are you?" Markus asked from the doorway.

"I don't know, he's cute when he blushes and his _culo _is quite nice," Azzurra answered, and winked at Harry.

He blanched.

"In that case, mind if I have an affair with Jaleena?"

All three Durmstrang students broke out in laughter. The two Veela took his hands and pulled him out of his chair. "Come on Harry," Jaleena said. "We'll show you around on our way to dinner."

Neither witch let go of Harry's hand the entire time they explored castle, with Azzurra's boyfriend walking in front of them.

Dinner was a quiet affair, though Professor Sirko joined them. They talked over classes, asked about Harry's knowledge of Transfiguration and Potions, and made notes on strengths and deficiencies. Before Harry knew it, it was ten in the evening.

Markus and he went back to their dorm room and prepared for bed.

"So, what did you think of your first day?"

"Confusing," Harry said with a chuckle.

"Naa, the Castle's easy to find stuff in. Staff and faculty are on the first floor, classrooms are on the second floor, dorms are on the third floor, and the Dining Hall is at the far end of the first floor."

"That's not what I meant," Harry confessed.

"I didn't think so, but I forgot to tell you that earlier."

Harry pulled his shirt off and changed for bed, then climbed underneath the covers. It was already cold in the room and it was in the middle of the blasted summer!

"I found it quite odd that your girlfriend and her best-friend, both of whom are Veela, held my hands half the night, and you had no problem with it."

Markus pulled his own nightshirt over his head and climbed into bed. "They were trying to make you more comfortable with them so that you wouldn't get lost in their magic. Physical touch can help that. Normally, they wouldn't dare walk around that way with someone, but since you can fight the magic, they decided to spend the time with you."

"How do you know that?"

"They watched you in the meadow this afternoon and saw how you were able to fight off Azzurra's Veela magic. There are only a few wizards at the school that can do that, so the Veelas tend to befriend them quickly. It lets them feel normal, instead of being gawked at."

Harry snorted. "I guess I can understand that."

"Good. Now get some sleep, Professor Sirko wasn't kidding when he said you were going to start training tomorrow."

* * *

The final product ended up being somewhat different, and I think I like it better for the most part.

The next scene starts out similar to what ended up in the story, but really changes. I felt that I wrote myself into a corner, so you can tell where I stopped. There was just too much revealing going on about Harry and Fleur. That's part of the reason I cut this out, and another reason I changed the scene above.

** X**

"So, Harry, ready for your Transfiguration lesson?" Azzurra asked after lunch two weeks later.

"Would it change anything if I said no?" he answered,

"Probably not. Learning two years worth of charms in about two months is like trying to build Rome in a year. Pretty much impossible, even more so if you take time off."

"Yes ma'am."

"That is _not _how you get in the teacher's good graces, Potter."

Harry bit the inside of his lips to stop from laughing.

"Alright, if you're going to be a difficult student," – she smirked – "What are the five Principle Exceptions to Gamp's law?"

Harry plopped himself down in a chair. "Can't produce food or love, restore life or body parts destroyed by Dark Magic, create precious metals or clothing, or transfigure something into a giver of knowledge."

Azzurra tilted her head back and widened her eyes. "Very good, Harry. Let's see you transfigure a few things."

She tossed a few marbles, a snuff box, and a cup onto the desk.

"Transfigure the marbles into something larger."

Harry waved his wand.

"_Duro_!"

Three marbles turned to stone.

"Hmm. I'm both impressed and not so impressed." Azzurra said as she inspected the stone marbles. "They are just a little larger, and the same shape as before."

She waved her wand and they went transformed back to their original state.

"Again. This time, I want them to double in size."

Harry tried it again and produced three large, oblong stones, each one about three times the original size.

"That's better. Now, what impressed me is that you're transfiguring three objects at the same time. How are you doing that?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I haven't ever done that before. I just happened to look at them and decided I was too tired to do it three times, so I concentrated on all three at once."

"Really?" she asked. "That was the first time you accomplished multi-item Transfiguration?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

Azzurra's gaze turned distant and . Harry felt a large lump develop in his throat, suddenly missing Hermione.

He jumped up out of his chair, "I have to go take care of something," he said and rushed from the classroom, and came to a dead stop. Where could he go? If he went up to his dorm, Markus would probably be there – which also left him with no chance to get his Invisibility cloak. If he went outside, Professor Sirko would probably see him and come ask why he wasn't in class learning about Transfiguration. At least at Hogwarts, he had options when he wanted to be alone, and if he really wanted to be alone, he could pull out the Marauder's map the twins gave him and. . . .

Harry barely made it into the next classroom and shut the door before he was overwhelmed with the emotions of the last two and a half months.

The memories pressed in on him in a relentless pursuit to steal every last piece of self-control he had – Hermione, Ron, and He in Hogsmeade together; the three of them meeting up at Diagon before their Second Year; all the time spent at the Burrow. . . .

More memories rushed in as the tears began to pour out– The twins and Alicia and Katy and Angelina on brooms day after day, night after night; Seamus taking the mickey out of Ron until Ron chased him around the common room cursing him and everyone else who got in the way, Molly Weasley suffocating him with a hug that comes from a mum loving someone so much—

Tables flipped over and chairs flew through the air, snapping into pieces against the walls and windows. But soon that wasn't enough. He pulled out his wand and cast curse after curse, destroying anything in the room. He picked up another chair and hurled it back across the room, hitting it with a _reducto_ Curse. The chair shattered, raining wood and metal against the wall.

"HARRY!"

He turned to see Professor Sirko standing in the doorway, with Azzurra behind him.

"Why have you buggered up my entire classroom?"

He didn't have an answer – and if he did, he wasn't going to say anyway.

"Azzurra tells me that you seemed fine, then a second later, you excused yourself and came in here to tear up the furniture. Is that true?"

Again, he remained silent.

Azzurra whispered in Professor Sirko's ear and stepped back. The professor abruptly turned and exited the room, the soles of his shoes slapping the marble floor as he walked down the hall.

Harry looked around at the destruction. Had he really destroyed every desk in the room? Pieces of wood, metal, and assorted instruments littered the floor. There were even a few remnants embedded in the stone walls.

The stones looked familiar, now that he was focused on them. They were the same type of stones that he had spent all summer lifting and carrying and settling into place. He was so sore that first week, but more than once, Fleur made him lie on the floor of the sitting room as she straddled his back, working out the kinks with those soft, delicate hands.

Hands he would probably never hold again – just more loss, even if she wasn't his to lose in the first place.

It didn't matter, however. He'd lost everyone else. Every last bloody one of—

Glass vials hidden behind cabinet doors shattered, as did the glass windows, but the wailing of a fifteen-year-old boy, who had fallen to the floor, drowned out the sound.

"They're all gone! I can't bring them back!"

"Oh, god, Harry." Azzurra closed the distance and pulled him into her. Jaleena, having been summoned by Professor Sirko, ran through the doorway at that moment.

"What—?"

"I think we need to know," Azzurra cut her off.

Harry was barely aware of the silent conversation taken place between the two veela. Finally, Jaleena nodded. "If I do this, we tell him as well."

"It's not our secret," Azzura said. "But I'll talk to Markus."

He felt a second pair of hands on him. "I want to ask your permission to do something."

Jaleena's cute button nose and full lips were barely visible as tears welled up and poured out unbidden and unwanted. "Do whatever you want." he dropped his wand curled in on himself, feeling like a lost little boy again.

He felt a soft hand delicately laid on his arm, followed by a rasp of inward breath. They remained liked that for longer than Harry could remember until she spoke again.

"Harry," Jaleena quietly said his name. "It's okay, Harry."

She wrapped her arms around him and he couldn't help but feel better, though he noticed that she wasn't pushing her magic into him like Fleur did.

Harry didn't catch her looking at Azzurra and slowly shaking her head in disbelief. But he did feel when her arms wrapped around him as well.


	2. Chapter 13 Rejected Material

This starts off with Gabrielle's first visit to Durmstrang. It begins pretty similar, but takes a vastly different path. Again, there was too much revealing, so I cut it out.

* * *

"HARRY!"

Already standing, he turned around in the crowded Dining Hall to see a young beauty rocketing towards him.

"Oomph! When did you become a brick wall?" Gabrielle asked, rubbing her shoulder.

Harry gestured to Markus. "Blame him. The bloke's had me out running laps around the lake at five a.m. every bleedin' morning since I've been here."

"Whining again, Potter?"

Harry's new gesture caused quite a few laughs.

Gabrielle made a little fist and punched Harry in the chest. "Nope, laps won't do that to you, but pushups would."

She raised an eye at the three Veela standing to his left, though barely able to conceal her grin. "So, which one of you three have been letting Harry do pushups on you?"

Harry thought it would have been worth every last Galleon in his Gringots account back in France to see his veela-chicks shocked into silence by a thirteen year old.

"Oh come on," Gabrielle teased, "There's nothing wrong with helping Harry. You know he'd always be. . . behind you if you would just ask."

And that color of red would be worth the other vault in England.

"Alright, enough from the mouthy little French witch," Harry cut in.

"Why? Don't tell me I'm still the only veela you've seen naked. Your own sister, 'Arry. Shame on you!"

"Gabrielle, is it?" Markus asked.

"Yep."

"I think we're going to get along just fine," he said, before his laughter boomed throughout the Dining Hall. "Cheeky veela, indeed."

"Is that what my big brother says about his loving, adorable little sister?"

"I see what you mean," Azzurra staged whispered to Harry.

Gabrielle gave her a pout that had Azzurra making that cute giggling type noise in the back of her throat again. "He said you were absolute trouble of the best kind. Come, we have an hour or so before we're leaving, let's go talk about Harry Potter."

Harry watched Gabrielle and the three older veela walk out of the Dining Hall together, then turned to Markus. "This can't be good."

**X O X**

"Headmaster, you asked for me?" Harry asked, knocking on Professor Sirko's door. After everything he had heard about Durmstrang, he still found it strange that the headmaster's office opened right into a hallway without any passwords or secret passages.

"Come in. I trust you have already finished your morning training?"

"We did." He couldn't keep the smile off his face.

Professor Sirko quirked an eyebrow. "Something humorous happen today/"

"I managed to wake up first this morning and found Markus sleeping without wards or charms.

The professor chuckled. "How did he take it?"

"Pretty good, mainly in the chest and head."

Professor Sirko threw back his head and guffawed.

"I meant, has he got back at you."

"It was a right interesting jog around the lake, I'll say that much. Anyway, I'm sorry to be so forward, sir, but I'm supposed to be meeting with—"

"No worries. I just wanted to touch bases with you on your training. I've talked with everyone and it seems that overall, you're doing well. The pace we set for you was pretty brutal and the fact you're able to keep up as much as you have impresses me."

Harry waited, thinking that he was being set up for a particularly nasty bludger.

"There are two areas of continued concern, however."

_And here it comes._

The first is your control. Azzurra reports that you're still struggling, except in specific circumstances like your Patronus. Have you given it any thought as to why?"

"Yeah, even tried working on it myself, but I don't know what's wrong."

Professor Sirko nodded. "I think it may have to do with the second area of concern." He leaned forward in his chair to gaze at Harry over the ancient dark stained desk. "I think you're so connected with your anger and hatred at what happened back at Hogwarts that you're pushing too much power through everything you cast. It's overloading the actual spell work.

"Markus is also reporting that you're still are having a hard time fighting until you get pissed off for some reason, then you're ripping through everyone's shields and are pretty much unstoppable.

He nodded. That was exactly what was happening, though he didn't want to get into a deep discussion about this morning.

"I'm not going to lecture you about controlling it. You've already heard that speech more than once, but I'm going to suggest you start writing down what's happened to you each day and how you've responded to it."

"You mean, like a journal?" Harry asked, a little surprised.

"Yeah, somewhat. I hoping we can find patterns that will give us a clue as to why you're able to control some things and not others. I want you to also journal about your control both in class, and your anger. Think you can do that?"

"I guess."

"Good. Go have fun today."

Two hours later, Harry was sitting at a table watching his three—well no, today it was his four Veela-chicks walking towards him. It was the fourth one however, that was currently wrenching his heart. In just the last six weeks, Gabrielle seemed to have aged another three years. He knew it was normal for Veela, and her growth spurts that ate up years in weeks would be finished within the next few months. Then, she'd stay looking like a twenty-two year goddess for the next forty or so years.

Harry could be honest with himself enough to admit that Gabrielle was just as beautiful as the other three Veela she was currently with, even Azzurra in all her Italian full-Veelaness. Truth be told, though Harry was probably biased, she was even prettier and that, Harry decided was the problem.

He'd already informed her earlier that any man would have to be approved by her big brother and the chances of that happening, were slim to none. At the heart of it however, lay the reason why he felt like his heart was being crushed all over again today. An hour ago, when she turned a corner while talking to Azzurra and smiling, it almost drove him to his knees.

"Are you sure it's her sister you're in love with?" Markus asked, sitting next to Harry in little outdoor coffee shop.

The bile rose into his throat at the thought of betraying Fleur with Gabrielle. "That's not a topic open for discussion, Markus."

"Maybe not discussion, but from where I'm sitting, it looks like you'd like to talk with your hands a bit more anyway."

Harry's wand was in his hand before Markus could even blink. "I like you a lot, but I also put up with a lot of your shite, Markus. Please, just leave it alone."

Markus raised his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. I get it. I was just teasing."

Harry snorted and put his wand away, shaking his head.

"So, if that's not it, then—"

He turned back to Markus and glared, but Markus pushed on. "Settle down, Harry. I told you I got it. I was just wondering what's got under your skin – besides me."

Harry somehow sunk into his chair, falling in on himself. "She's starting to look more and more like her sister. It hurts to look at her."

"You really do love this witch, don't you?"

"Love? I don't know, I really don't know what that is. I do know that I would want to spend the rest of my life learning how to love . . . and be loved by her."

"Then what's holding you back?"

_How do I answer that? How to explain that I don't want to confuse things anymore, make it harder to kill the damned Horcrux in my head_? "She doesn't feel the same way."

Before Markus could say anything else, Gabrielle bounded up to the table. "Hey, big brother!" She pointed across the alley to a wizard that looked to be about Harry's age. "Is he good enough for me? He's kinda cute!"

The wizard in question blushed and stumbled headfirst into the door of the nearest shop. Harry chuckled. "You are a cruel witch."

"Why? Because I called him cute? He is! Do you think I should go make it up to him with a kiss?"

Harry pulled his wand out again. "Try it, I dare you."

"Suddenly, this big-brother thing isn't so fun." Gabrielle tried to pout, but it was so overacted that the table all laughed at her.

" 'Arry was right about you. You are trouble."

Gabrielle turned to the other French Veela. She and Médeé were having fun picking on Azzurra all morning. "But I'm too innocent to be trouble! Ask 'Arry, 'e's the only one that's seen my bare derriere." She paused for a second. "Though I never asked" – she turned and grinned at him – "what did you think, do I have a cute bum?"

Harry's eyes narrowed playfully at her. "Yes, Gabrielle, you are a cute ass."

"Hey! That's not what I asked!" she protested amongst the guffaws. "Keep it up and I'll get Paige to leave a couple more messages on you."

Harry sobered at the thought. "Yeah, well, I think it's time to go pick up my winter Quidditch robe, they should be done with it by now.

**~ . ~ . ~**

While everyone else crossed the street, Gabrielle found a small hand softly but very firmly holding her elbow, keeping her back. She turned and was captivated by Jaleena, who was looking straight into her eyes.

"Would you stay and talk with me a few minutes, please?"

Gabrielle nodded. She was the most reserved of Harry's three Veela friends here, and the deepest. _This'll be an interesting conversation. _

"You are in love with him."

_Zut Alors, but she's perceptive. _"No, at least not in that way. I love him, but we would never be right for each other."

Jaleena raised a single eyebrow at her.

"He needs someone playful like me, but he also needs someone more mature – someone strong enough to drive out the bad things in 'is life and possess him with her own love instead. That's not me, at least for Harry."

Jaleena smiled at the younger Veela. "You are dangerous, aren't you? You know exactly what you're doing with your whole 'innocent' act."

"Who, me?" She asked with a giggle.

Jaleena shook her head. "Why?"

"Because it helps him. We've only known him a few months and with both his parents and his best friends family all dead, he'd be too suspicious if we tried to act like he was just one of us. So I treat him like a big brother most of the time, but remind him that I know he's not just a brother by flirting every now and then.

"Well, that and it's fun to do, though it was more fun when he'd get embarrassed easier. Now that he's turning it back on me, it's not so fun anymore."

Jaleena laughed at her admission. "You probably have us to blame for that. We haven't left him alone since he's come here."

She paused for a moment before switching topics.

"What about your sister and Harry?"

Gabrielle's face turned white and she gripped her wand, both surprised at her own reaction and also proud of herself for the protective feeling she had for her sister and Harry. "Why?"

Jaleena pierced her with a soul-searching look before answering. "You're very protective of them both, aren't you?"

"Fleur's been my heroine my entire life and the one time she couldn't be, Harry became my hero. While I could hex them both in the beak for the way they're dealing with each other, only I get to do that – or my _Maman _since I probably can't hit either of them with a curse – unfortunately."

"I can teach you how to slip a couple jinxes in under a shield, if you'd like."

"Thanks!" Gabrielle said. "Of course, I'm also surprised that she's not up here tearing him up all day, and then wearing him out all night."

"You're so bad," Jaleena said as she grinned. "We figured out it was your sister about three weeks ago. Since then, we've made Harry take a class on Veela heritage."

Gabrielle matched Jaleena's grin. "How did you find out it was. . . . oh! which one of you was it?"

"Which one what?" Jaleena asked.

Before Gabrielle answered, Azzura and Médeé walked up to the table.

"You two have a good talk?" Médeé asked.

"It was just about to get better," Gabrielle answered.

The newcomers glanced at Jaleena, then back Gabrielle who was grinning wickedly.

"Which one of you had the joy of kissing 'Arry?"

"None," Azzurra answered, "Why?"

"How did you find out then?" she asked.

Jaleena creased her eyebrows. "How would kissing Harry tell us about a Vee—Are you kidding me?"

"Nope. You mean you didn't know?"

"We had no idea." Jaleena answered.

Gabrielle saw the evidence of that statement in the eyes of the other two Veela, who were staring at them in utter confusion.

"My sister marked 'Arry."

Utter confusion turned to understanding and then, to her surprise, anger.

"He's fifteen years old!" Azzurra said. "Even if she removes the mark, there's a chance no Veela would ever give him the time of day."

"I know," Gabrielle answered.

"But why would she mark him as her life-long mate so young?" Médeé asked.

"You'll 'ave to ask 'er. But I know something 'appened, and yes, I do believe that she's in love with 'im.

"I wonder of Harry knows." Jaleena mused.

"Knows what," Gabrielle asked. Zhat she's in love with 'im, or that 'e's marked?"

"Both, though you're absolutely sure she's in love with him?"

"I don't know whether 'Arry knows or not, but as for whether she loves 'im or not, check zhe mark." Gabrielle grinned mischievously again. After last time, it'd be hilarious to watch his reaction."

They made her explain what happened the first time. Five minutes later, Harry walked up to a giggling gaggle of Veela.

" 'Ello, 'Arry," Médeé said, went up on her toes, and kissed him smack on the lips.

Gabrielle had a large glass of water ready for her immediately as Médeé spun around and washed her mouth out, spitting the water out in a nearby tree.

"Well, I guess that answers that." Gabrielle said, and lost her battle not to laugh at the completely befuddled expression on Harry's face.

"Don't worry, 'Arry, she was just checking something out. I don't think she'll do it again."

Harry could only mumble, "Every damn Veela I meet."

** X**

* * *

This next paragraph was the concluding paragraph after Paige and Fleur had their dinner and Paige talked to Fleur about Harry.

The problem was that it was all commentary, so I cut it.

* * *

~ . ~ . ~

Later that night, Fleur lay in bed, willing sleep to come and relieve her of the hurt of this reality, hoping for the sweet relief of another dream where Harry comes back. Another dream, where his love is strong and growing and enveloping her, drowning every fear, every doubt she's ever had – about him, about them, and about her, those doubts she had hidden for so many years.

Gently, the sweet bliss of sleep overtook her and she fell asleep.

* * *

The rest of the stuff obviously had to be cut, since I cut the journaling part. And am I ever glad I did. That would have been dry, dull, and a hundred other adjectives.

* * *

**X O X O**

_Great, why does my first entry in the journal have to be, "Médeé snogged me today, then turned around and used a full glass of water to rinse her mouth out afterward"? At least that'll give Professor Sirko something to analyze. _

Harry chuckled despite his frustration.

_I guess I might as well get to it. _Twenty minutes later, he was finished writing in his new journal he bought that day as well. Harry didn't journal everyday as he would forget somedays, but the more important things were journaled throughout the


	3. Chapter 16 Rejected Material

This scene was pretty fun, and I struggled whether to take it out, but in the end, there was too much overt sexual tension. Also, most of it was entertainment, without really driving the story forward. You'll notice that parts of it made its way into the real story. Also, I felt like it was beginning to repeat the Burrow too much.

* * *

Barely conceived thoughts swirled in a mind that was waking up a few seconds later than the rest of the body, which was already reporting that something lay on his chest. Whatever it was, it smelled wonderful.

Harry opened his eyes and peered into a pile of blond hair. An arm was draped across his chest and he reveled in the feeling of waking up this way.

He touched his lips to her forehead. "Morning."

An inarticulate noise escaped Fleur's lips. Then she slid off his chest, buried her head against his side, and fell back to sleep.

Harry smiled and turned onto his side, facing her, and stared at his . . . girlfriend? Yeah, that was the right word. It felt weird saying it last night, but Fleur's smile helped him get over that rather quickly. With a midday sun, he could see the small smile that graced her lips as she slept. But the smile only highlighted cheekbones that were too prominent, a jaw line too sharp, and a body that looked too frail. He'd seen hints of it the night before, but the light was laying bare the physical reminders of her pain.

He reached out to stroke her cheek but stopped himself. A slight darkening of the skin created faint circles under her eyes. Veela magic was supposed to prohibit that from happening, and the fact that it didn't gave more testimony to what she had suffered over the last few months.

Another stab of regret pierced his chest. Even when he tried to protect her, he hurt her. Great.

Harry eased himself out of bed and walked into the sitting room.

"Froissé?"

She appeared out of thin air. "How can Froissé help Fleur's 'arry?"

He couldn't help but smirk. "Can you bring a tray of Fleur's favorite breakfast?" he asked, thankful again for learning French.

"Froissé can do that, but it be past midday. Does Fleur's 'Arry prefer lunch instead?"

It sounded just as funny the second time. "I don't know. What do you think Fleur would want?"

The elf twitched her ears back and forth and bounced a finger off her bulbous nose, deep in thought. "I be bringing both. Fruits and light pastries for breakfast and—"

"Pastries?" Harry cut her off.

Half an hour later, Harry walked into his bedroom with a tray of food: slices of French bread, jams, croissants, and some fruits lined one side of the tray; an assortment of meats, cheeses, baguettes, and other various items lined the other. The middle was covered with a napkin. He set the tray on the dresser, slipped out of his trousers, and lay down in the bed again.

"Fleur?" he said, and caressed her cheek.

She mumbled and snuggled closer to him, looking so angelic that Harry felt guilty trying to wake her a second time.

"_Mon Amour_."

"_Oui?_" she answered before her eyes snapped open. "'Arry?!"

He bit back a laugh. "_Bon jour,_" he said, and kissed her on the forehead. "I have breakfast."

Fleur wiped the sleep from her eyes, then propped herself against the headboard and stretched.

"Sleep well?" Harry asked. He used the covers to wipe away a line of spittle from Fleur's cheek.

She turned crimson. "Stay zhere!" She snatched her wand from the nightstand and ran into the bathroom and Harry broke out in laughter.

The door cracked open and a wand emerged. "Is my new boyfriend laughing at me?"

"Of course not," Harry answered. "I'm laughing at the situation."

The door opened a little more and Fleur poked her head out to glare at him, but he just laughed harder. She huffed and shut the door, but after the last few months of watching Veela react in relationships, Harry had a feeling he knew what was coming.

The door opened and Fleur stepped out, a cute scowl on her face. "So, you laugh at your new girlfriend?" Fleur asked. She stalked across the floor, her pupils were slightly dilated, and a slight flush radiated from her neck and arms. Harry knew that look. He'd seen it every time Azzurra stalked Markus in retribution.

He gulped.

Fleur reached the end of the bed. "You zhink a drooling Veela is funny?"

Despite his better judgment, Harry nodded that he did, and braced himself.

Fleur cross her arms, but her wand remained in plain view. "You zhink a drooling girlfriend is funny?"

He gripped the sheets beneath him and nodded in the affirmative again – almost anxious to see what she was going to do.

Fleur stepped up onto the bed. "I'LL SHOW YOU FUNNY!" She hit him with a tickling charm, then straddled him, and reached for his sides to add to the torture.

Harry twisted and gyrated on the bed, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to make her stop.

"Do you still zhink it is funny?" she asked after a minute or so.

"Yep."

She took a dramatic breath, giggled, and reached back, drawing her fingers across the sensitive skin on the backside of his upper legs.

He jumped and squirmed on the bed. "Alright, alright, stop! Bloody hell! That's enough!"

She leaned forward and pinned his shoulders to the bed, her face an inch away from his and her hair tickling his face. He could feel a different type of Veela magic radiating off her and his body was beginning to react in very pleasurable ways.

"Who says it's enough?" she asked, her voice playful and challenging, with a hint of desire laced in it.

Harry grinned, placed his hands on her stomach, and benched pressed her off him. An actual "Eep!" escaped her lips and Harry laughed, then flipped her in the air and let her drop on the other side of the bed. He rolled on top of her.

"I do!"

He lowered his head until his lips were inches away from hers. "Though I like it when you take control." A moment of intimate silence passed between them before Harry realized the double entendre, coupled with the way his body was pressed against hers.

"I can't believe I just said that!" he said, and buried his head under Fleur's chin. She wrapped her arms around him and filled the room with laughter.

"Papa said your Veela-chicks made you playful – I think zhat's something else I need to thank them for." She kissed him on the cheek, then nuzzled up to his ear and whispered, "Or maybe I should just show you how thankful I am."

Harry audibly gulped and much of the blood in his body diverted south. Fleur had climbed into bed last night in her knickers and t-shirt, which meant that he could feel the outline of her—he leaped off her, landing on the other side of the bed face down, and covered his head with a pillow.

"That's an interesting position, 'Arry – But I think liked the last one better," she teased.

He groaned into the mattress. "Three months at Durmstrang and I still can't last more than a few seconds with you."

"I certainly hope you'll last much longer than that," Fleur answered in seductive voice that caused Harry's body to tingle even more. He felt a blush start about the middle of his back and work its way up. Fleur giggled, then pulled the pillow away and forced him to roll onto his side. "I'm just glad that my 'Arry is back, and that I can still make him blush."

He leaned back and narrowed his eyes.

"I like my innocent 'Arry. I feel safe around 'im, even if he 'as gotten more playful." She gave him a peck on the lips. "Now what was it you brought for me?"

"Wicked as Morgan le Fay," he said.

"Worse," she corrected. "And I thought you learned French!"

"Huh?"

Fleur rolled her eyes. "Morgan le Fay is a French name. It means 'Morgan the fairy.'And since Morgans are water spirits, she was probably some kind of a cross between the two." A dangerous smirk pulled at the corner of her lips. "Neither of which can match the trouble a playful Veela can cause. I think you should remember that, _'Arry._"

Oh Merlin's blue nuts was that ever a challenge, and the way she emphasized his name—

He seriously debated pushing his luck even further, but with the way his body was responding to her right now, he thought better of it. "Um . . . I'll keep that in mind for later." He blushed again, but ignored it and fetched the tray off the Bureau.

Fleur propped herself up on the headboard. "What's that?" she asked, pointing to the napkin once he got back to the bed.

And that quickly, Harry wasn't so sure this was a good idea. What if it backfired? It's too late now, he thought. "It's the last happy memory we have together. I was hoping that we could start over from there."

Harry removed the napkin and watched as Fleur stared at the Chocolate and Crème Torsade. She looked up at him with doe-like eyes. "How did. . . ?"

"I decide?" He finished for her, and smiled. "It reminded me of you. If you only admire the beauty on the outside" – he picked it up and broke off a piece, then fed it to her, "you'll never get to the best part."

Damn, Harry thought, it sounded even worse than it did last time—

A pair of warm, sweet lips pressed against Harry's.

Maybe it wasn't _that _bad . . .

Ten minutes later, the tray was almost empty. "Thank you," he said.

Fleur raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

He tried to answer, but found that the words were stuck in his throat. Instead, he drew a finger across her cheekbone and to the circle under her right eye, and then let his hand drop to the bed before being able to speak. "I'm sorry. I know that's not enough, but I don't know how—"

"Stop," Fleur said, interrupting him. She splotched his nose with a finger dipped in jelly. "We're not going to wallow in it. I'd rather move on." She leaned in close to him and Harry could feel the heat and magic emanating off her, and just about lost himself when she slowly licked the jelly off with the tip of her tongue. "Wouldn't you?" Fleur grinned at his gobsmacked expression. "Good, you agree." She settled back to his side and took another bite of toast, a coy smile on her lips.

They finished the meal in comfortable silence. Harry levitated the tray back to the bureau, then put his wand down and leaned back against the headboard. "I suppose we should get up and see what everyone else is doing."

"Why?" Fleur asked, her head on his shoulder again. "They know where we are. Let 'em come see us if they want to."

It proved to be prophetic five minutes later when Gabrielle walked into the room. "So, gotten into her knickers yet?"

"Gabrielle!" Fleur yelled.

Harry crossed his arms and relaxed. Even with his stunted sense of self-preservation, he knew better than to get in the middle of his little sister winding up his new girlfriend.

"What? Too crass?" Gabrielle asked, and then turned to Harry. "Sorry, so did you shag her featherless?"

Harry bit down hard on his bottom lip and closed his eyes, trying not to laugh.

"I'm warning you!" Fleur yelled again.

"What?" Gabrielle asked. "I thought the early bird alwaysgets the worm."

The little bugger was fast; Harry had to give Gabrielle credit. But he was even more impressed with Fleur. Her wand was already out and a jinx he didn't recognize caught Gabrielle as she tumbled out of the room. Fleur made a sweeping motion with her wand and the door closed, then she pulled the covers up to her face and broke out in laughter.

"We should probably get upstairs," he said.

"Why's that?" Fleur asked.

"Sirius and Remus are here. There's a good chance that Gabrielle will be coming back with reinforcements."

* * *

**A/N **So, that scene above was actually edited down. Here's the stuff that was edited out of it. I love Gabrielle's character, but it was just too much.

* * *

Harry bit down hard on his bottom lip and closed his eyes trying not to laugh.

"I'm warning you!"

"Why?" Gabrielle asked, turning back to Fleur. "That wasn't crass. Besides, I thought the early bird alwaysgets the worm."

"One more comment!" Fleur practically growled.

Gabrielle addressed Harry again. ""

The little bugger was fast, but not as fast has Harry's wand, or Fleur's for that matter. She was three feet from the door when Harry's _Riddikulus _spell hit her. She bounced off the wall, and then was caught in Fleur's _Levicorpus _spell, which levitated her over the bed. They laughed at the green skin, pointy hat, and long nose complete with a wart.

"Now you're a wicked witch," Harry said between explosions of laughter.

"I'm going to get you!"

It was close enough. Harry held his stomach in pain from laughing. The unintended consequence however, was Fleur laughing so hard at Harry, that she dropped her spell, and Gabrielle smack in the middle of the bed.

"Give me a little kiss, 'Arry!" the toothless old hag version of Gabrielle said, leaning forward.

"No you don't!" Fleur cut in, and grabbed her around the waist and began tickling.

Gabrielle kicked and screamed until Fleur stopped, and then wrapped her arms around her baby sister, pulling her in tight. Harry reversed the spell and wiped the tears from his eyes.

"Good morning to you too, Gabby," he said.

"I'll leave in a few minutes; I just came down to see how you were doing."

He mussed her hair. "It's okay, and thanks for going behind our backs with Azzurra, Jaleena, and Médeé."

She nodded, then turned over slightly. "Sorry for calling you a bitch."

Fleur kissed her on the top of the head. "I deserved it; but what are we going to do with you?"

"What do you mean?" Gabrielle asked.

"The words that come out of my little sister's mouth."

"Never mind staring at strange men in the shower," Harry added.

"What's this?" Fleur asked a now blushing Gabrielle.

"I think I'll be leaving now."

Fleur held Gabrielle even tighter. "You're not going anywhere until I get an answer! Why is my little sister peeking in the men's showers at Durmstrang?"

"Oh, it wasn't at Durmstrang," Harry corrected. "She did it last night – just barged right in on me for no reason at all and whipped the shower curtain back, then tried to start up a conversation of all things!"

"IT WASN'T LIKE THAT!" Gabrielle protested.

"No?" Harry asked. "You want me to Pensieve it? I still have a couple other memories that could go in there as well, we can have fun reliving all of them.

* * *

**A/N **I almost wished I kept it, but the whole "witch" thing was too over the top.

The next scene has parts that feel familiar from the actual chapter. However, again, it didn't do anything to further the story.

**X ~ X ~ X ~ X**

"I need to pick something up at the office. Why don't you come with me, Harry?" Mr. Delacour said a little while later.

Worry began to tickle the underside of his thoughts, and was made worse when Sirius, sitting behind Mr. Delacour in the larger sitting room on the main floor, drew a finger across his neck.

Remus smack Sirius on the arm. "Knock it off or you're going to put him in spell-shock."

"He needs to know what's coming," Sirius countered.

"And how would you know?" Tonks asked from the couch. "According to mum, your trousers were usually around your ankles when a witch's father entered the room."

Sirius blushed, and Tonks let out a whoop.

Harry huffed. "This isn't helping!"

"Don't worry," Mr. Delacour said. "It's nothing like that. I just wanted someone to accompany me to the office and thought we could talk on the way."

"Oh, sure, I'll go with you then."

Harry felt a pair of arms slip around him from behind. "Be nice to him Papa!" Fleur warned.

Forty minutes later, he was sitting in a chair by the fireplace in Mr. Delacour's office.

"I take it things are different between you and my daughter since the last time we were in here."

Harry nodded as Mr. Delacour sat in the opposite chair and passed a bottle of butterbeer to him. "Yes, sir."

"Don't start with the 'sir' bit. You want to be on my good side, don't you?" Mr. Delacour asked with a smile. "I think you know me well enough to call me by my first name."

"Thanks. I'm just a little nervous. I mean, I'm finding out that it's less unnerving facing Voldemort than a girlfriend's father."

Jacque chuckled. "The first time I faced Apolline's father, he sat at their kitchen table and cleaned his wand collection while reciting every cutting curse he knew." He looked at Harry and shook his head. "Apolline almost left me because she thought I wasn't interested in witches."

He laughed, settled into the couch.

"Look, I'm not going to give you the overprotective father speech. Just do me a favor and respect a couple rules in my house." Jacque said. "First, I know that Fleur is an adult and you might as well be with everything you're dealing with, but please, don't bed my daughter under my roof."

Harry choked on a mouth full of butterbeer, but he managed to keep it off the expensive couch as he started coughing. Jacque conjured a napkin for him and used a couple cleaning charms on his clothes.

"Maybe you should wait until we're done with this part of the conversation before taking another drink."

"Yeah, maybe you're right," Harry agreed. "I promise you I, we, haven't done that, or even came close to it." A memory from the Burrow came to the surface. Harry crossed his arms and leaned back against the chair. He had just realized that Jacque had taken a bit of the mick out of him. "Besides, with two Veela daughters, I'd bet you have all types of Charms that you've put into place."

Jacque lifted an eyebrow. "What kind of charms would those be?" He asked in an innocent voice.

"I'm not that daft . . . sir."

Jacque laughed. "Yes, the house is charmed in many different ways, including charms to protect our daughter's chastity." He held up a hand. "And if you know any different about either daughter, please don't tell me."

The tortured look on Jacque's face said much more than his words ever could. Harry grunted his agreement, hoping to move beyond this part of the discussion rather quickly.

"Second, I just ask you to be absolutely honest with her. I stayed out of whatever it was between the two of you before and let you work it out yourselves, but if there's one thing I've learned from being married to a Veela for twenty plus years, it's to be absolutely honest. On top of that, Fleur deserves the respect."

It could have been much worse, Harry thought to himself. He was planning on being honest with Fleur in the first place.

"And then a request," Jacque said. "As her father, I obviously don't like the two of you sleeping in the same bed, especially at your ages regardless of what I've said before. But I also know why it happens. I just ask that if it needs to be, you'll sleep upstairs in Fleur's bed. That way, if the chastity charms alert us, you're quickly within hexing distance."

Harry blushed, but in spite of himself, he began to laugh. "I promise."

"Good."

The smiled at each other, then Harry asked. "Is it safe to take a drink now?"

"Yeah, at least for you." Jacque stood up walked over to his desk. "I'm still nervous about having this conversation with Fleur."

Harry stopped with the bottle halfway to his lips. "Why would you risk doing that?"

"Because if I don't, Sirius'll give Fleur the "take care of 'Arry" speech, and from what I know of him, I'm not sure I want him giving my daughter any ideas about how to do that."

* * *

**A/N **I think in hindsight, I should've kept this instead of the scene I ended with. However, I would've shortened it and made it happen at the Delacour home.

Next, is my first real mistake. This scene is such a better introduction to Neville. I wish I had kept it instead of what I have in the story.

**X ~ X ~ X ~ X**

The next three days flew by quickly and Harry enjoyed every minute of it. For the first time in seven months, he was together with those he considered family without his own life being in an uproar. Sure, there was still the Horcrux issue hanging over his head. They had even talked about that the night before, with the conclusion that everyone needed to research it more – not too helpful, even if it was true.

After dinner, they all gathered in the larger sitting room and chatted about nothing and everything. The evening was beginning to wind down when Fleur asked Sirius, "Anything we need to know about the war in Britain?"

"Not really," he answered. "Anyone who stands against the Death Eaters is killed. People have either joined their side, or have been cowed into acceptance. We're trying what we can, but at this point . . ."

"Is it really that bad?" Jacque asked.

Harry wondered that as well. If he had to go over there and face the general wizarding populace, could he do it?

"Worse," Charlie cut in. "Neville is working with a group, making small counterstrikes and trying to disrupt the new government. He's been branded an enemy of wizards, and has a bounty of seven thousand Galleons on his head."

"Who's that?" Gabrielle asked.

"A friend of mine," Harry answered, and took a deep breath. He felt Fleur squeeze his hand in support and he looked up at her. "I can't hide too much longer. It's not fair to Neville."

"Not fair?" Tonks barely said out before she burst out in laughter. "The day that bounty was announced, he showed up in Diagon Alley and challenged anyone to collect it. One person tried. I swear twenty wands appeared out of nowhere. I heard it took seven hours for the Healers to reverse all the spells and hexes the tosser was hit with – and Neville never even produced his own wand."

"You're kidding me!" Jacque said.

"Not in the least. That boy is making a name for himself." Tonks stopped for a moment, remembering something, then grinned. "Of course, then there's the story of his grandmother and the Death Eaters."

Harry's eyes widened. He knew Augusta Longbottom, or at least knew of her through Neville. That was one tough old bird. "What happened," he asked.

Tonks, Charlie and Sirius all turned to Remus. "Why don't you tell them, since you were there," Charlie said.

"The rest of you were too," Remus reminded them.

Sirius let out a short bark of laughter. "We were running out the back door. Only you were dumb enough to stay near Augusta Longbottom when someone brassed her off."

"Wait," Fleur interrupted. "We're talking about a sweet little grandmother against Death Eaters?"

Tonks morphed into an elderly, but stately woman. "Yes we are, and if you doubt me, I'll take you over my knee and knock some sense into your brain from the backside, child! Anymore stupid questions?"

"Bloody hell!" Harry said. "That's exactly like Neville described her."

Sirius slapped Remus on the leg. "So tell the story."

Remus glared at him, then turned the rest of the group. "The story, right. So there was Sirius, surrounded by three Ravenclaw seventh years, stuck to the wall face first, upside-down and naked for breakfast—"

"Not that story, you tossbag."

Remus shrugged. "Sorry, there's so many that start out with Sirius either suspended from something or running from something that I get confused. So let me think for a second . . .

"We got word that Death Eaters were going to visit the Longbottom place to kidnap and use Augusta as leverage against Neville. But they severely underestimated her. We showed up to get her to safety, but she refused to go. Just as we were leaving, eight Death Eaters appeared on her front grass and she started blasting away at them – right through the walls of her house. By the time she was done, the front of the house had caved in and all eight Death Eaters were out of commission in the front yard."

"Was she okay?" Mrs. Delacour asked, settling into the couch next to her husband.

"Yeah," Tonks answered. "She's holed up with Minerva, an old school friend and a professor at Hogwarts. They're both purebloods and are using their connections to cause havoc among the older generation. Most of us don't even want to know what they're doing at this point, but it's good to have them on our side."

"So many," Fleur said under her breath. Harry looked over at her and she caught his eye, then she turned to Sirius and Remus. "So when do you think we should go back to Britain?"

"We?" Harry asked in surprise. "I—" He bit back what he was about to say, and tried a different track. "Can we not talk about this right now?"

Fleur nodded, and let it go. But for the rest of the evening, Harry was restless, and he knew that she had picked up on it. He was thankful however, that she didn't push the subject. Then again, that also meant that he had to bring it up, and talk it out with her. Something he really didn't want to do. Nevertheless, after everyone else went to bed, he found himself standing in front of her bedroom door. "Fleur? Can I come in?"

"Of course," she answered.

Harry pushed the door opened. Whatever she was doing, she had stopped and was now sitting on the bed. Harry walked over and sat next to her. "I really don't know how to do this."

"Do what?" she asked. But she knew exactly what he meant, Harry thought, watching the way she was nervously playing with the edge of the pillowcase.

"Talking about things," he answered. "I mean, the other night was great, but I don't want to go through another six months of feeling like I did before we get another three days together . . . though it'd be worth it," he finished in a voice just loud enough for Fleur to hear.

Her smile put a warmth in his chest, and he reached out for her hand. "I learned that I have to be honest and tell you exactly what I feel."

Fleur didn't say anything, so he continued. "Look, the prophecy is about me. And since we haven't found a way to get rid of this thing in my head, we both know where it will end—"

A blink and a ragged breath from Fleur made him stop.

"Don't think like that!" she said. "It's only been a few days. We haven't even begun researching Horcruxes yet, nor have we had a chance to talk to Professor Sirko about it.

"But I can't wait. Neville is being hunted, and if he is, then I imagine Susan, and Cho, and everyone else who stood against the Death Eaters are as well. How long should I sit and wait for an answer about saving my own life? Why should I trade their lives for mine?"

Fleur opened her mouth, but didn't say anything. Instead, she turned away for a moment. When she turned back around, Harry's heart sank at the sight of "Beauxbatons Fleur" that had appeared.

"You're right," she said in an expressionless voice. "And who am I to sit here instead of going and helping you meet your destiny, whatever that is?"

Who am I . . . help . . . wait! Damn, damn, damn! This is _not _how this conversation is supposed to go! Harry took a deep breath to calm himself. "I don't want you hurt."

The facade cracked and her voice began to shake a little when she spoke again. "I didn't understand that before, but it doesn't make it any easier now."

"I know," he admitted, and let go of her hand. He reached around her and pulled her body into his. She wrapped her arms around him and they fell back on the bed, with her lying on top, but somewhat off to the side of him. He brushed away the hair that had fallen into her eyes. "I know it was Veela that Muggles confused with Guardian Angels, and that it comes from the fierce protectiveness a Veela feels for those they're close to. But can you understand that I feel the same way about you?"

Fleur buried her face in his chest. "I don't want to," she admitted. "So what are we going to do? It's going to take you tying me up to the bedpost to get me to stay when you go back to Britain. I just can't sit around while you march off to your death – and since you feel the exact opposite . . ." she let the sentence hang.

"I don't know," he answered, and pulled her in tighter.

They lay in silence for a while, her head on his chest and his arms around her. He had just about fallen to sleep when she popped back up. "When you go back, it won't be straight to a battle, right? I mean, you'll probably go back and meet with the Order first, find out what's been going on and what you need to do, right?"

"I guess, I really haven't thought about it. Why?"

"Well," Fleur lay down next to him. He rolled on his side and waited for her to continue as he lost himself in her eyes. "What if, for now, we agree that I go with you to the meetings? We'll be coming back to France after, since it's safer for you here until you're ready to do whatever you need to do. Once we have an idea of what that is, we can discuss my involvement. This way, we don't fight over it now, and we at least will know more when the time comes."

Great! Harry thought to himself. And that way, you get to win the Order to your side, make it so that I can't stand being out of your presence, and then win the argument by default.

But there really didn't seem to be any other options. He closed his eyes and hoped that she could see how much this was about to hurt him. "Okay, but that doesn't mean I like it."

Fleur traced a finger down his nose, stopping on his lips. "I think I like this."

"What? Winning?" he asked with a slightly cheeky smile.

She flicked him on his nose. "No, you coming to me and telling me what you're thinking, and then us talking about it."

"Speaking of that," Harry started. "You brought something up that I want to talk about a little more."

"Oh?" Fleur said. "What would that be?"

"Tying you to the bed posts."

Her jaw dropped and she went bright red. Harry leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "Goodnight, Fleur," he said, and walked out of the room.

But as the door closed, he heard Fleur slightly ragged voice.

"Little _batard_!" she said, followed by a giggle.

* * *

**A/N **So it ends pretty much the same way, but there's a whole lot less "Let's watch Fleur be a seductress" in it, and drives the story better than what I ended up posting, I think. In hindsight, I should've combined the two scenes, taking some of the infodump in the canon version of my story and putting it here, then dumping the whole Fleur stocking Harry thing.

The next scene really deviates from the final version, and again, I find myself thinking that I wish I would've kept it.

* * *

**X ~ X ~ X ~ X**

The stress of the previous night, on top of the last few days caught up with Harry the next morning, and he slept in well past his normal time. He finally woke up to someone laying next to him and running her hand through his hair.

"Wakey wakey!"

He opened his eyes and stared at her. _That_ was something he thought he'd never hear her say.

"Did you sleep well last night?" she asked. Her eyes suspiciously playful.

Warnings were flashing in his head, but he wasn't awake enough to figure out what they meant. "Yeah, why?" he asked.

"Oh, just wondering." Fleur pushed on his shoulder and he rolled up on his side away from her. She slid in next to him and cradled him against her, just in time for someone else to come through the door.

"Fleur?" Harry said, extremely confused.

"Harry! Why are you in bed with Tonks!"

He jumped out of the bed, twisting around at the same time to see Tonks lying next to him in a shirt and her knickers.

"Come back, Harry. We were having so much fun!"

"What! I . . . you . . . Fleur . . . No!"

"What's wrong?" Tonks asked. "Come back and lay down. Maybe Fleur and I can help you rub one out."

Harry's jaw dropped. After a couple vivid scenes flashed through his mind, he stood up and turned to Fleur. "Who?"

She kissed him on the cheek. "I think you should go blame Sirius."

He stormed out of the room and took the stairs two at a time. "Sirius!" he yelled.

"In here," his godfather answered from the dining room.

Harry headed that way, forgetting that he had on nothing but boxers. He didn't even feel the charm that Tonks had cast, changing the color to pink with white writing. "I like to rub one out."

He reached the dining room and faced Sirius, sitting at the end of the table. "Why in the hell would you send Tonks to prank me like that!"

Sirius threw his had back and laughed, but it was someone else that answered.

"He didn't. We did. By the way, nice boxers." Harry looked over and saw Azzurra, along with his other Veela chicks sitting at the head of the table, with Gabrielle and Mrs. Delacour next to them. Two other seats were empty. He'd been set up by the lot of them. Then he looked down and noticed the pink boxers, and the writing.

"Abso-freaking-lutely hilarious," he said.

"I think so!"

Harry glanced across the table to a smiling Marcus. "I'll deal with you out back under dueling wards!" he challenged.

"He's getting a little big for 'em trousers he should be wearing, isn't he?" Sirius asked.

"Why should he be wearing trousers?" Gabrielle wondered aloud. "I like the show just like it is. How about you, Medée?"

"I don't know, the trousers 'e bought when we went shopping look pretty good. Plus, I got to palm his arse a few times." She crossed her arms. "What do you think, Jaleena?"

"I think we're not even, yet. Harry should sit down and give us a long, detailed explanation about what 'rubbing one off,' means." She cocked an eyebrow. "Maybe even with personal examples?"

"Damn," Sirius said, "I don't think I've even been in it this deep. Three Veela seeking revenge, being aided by a fourth and a metamorphmagus? That's has to be some kind of record."

A pair of arms wrapped around Harry. "You looked like you would have really enjoyed Tonks's offer."

He blushed and turned around. "Et tu, Fleur?"

"I see you've made it through dad's Shakespeare section in the library."

"Three months away from her and your spending your time reading books?" Marcus asked. "No wonder you Brits have to rub one out."

"So that's why—"

Gabrielle didn't get any further as Fleur's wand came level with her nose. "Don't even think about it."

"What?" Gabrielle asked, her arms spread wide and a look of devilish innocence on her face.

Harry smirked. "Yeah, instead, why don't you spend the next twenty minutes explaining how you like to sneak a look at wizards in the shower."

The room fell silent as every head turned to Gabrielle, and Harry took the opportunity to disappear downstairs to get dressed.

"When did they get here?" Harry asked a few minutes later in his bedroom.

"About an hour before you woke up." Fleur answered. "It seems Gabrielle sent them an Owl and told them about the other night, then invited them over." She sat down on the chair in the corner of the bedroom.

"Are you okay with them being here?" he asked.

"Yeah," Fleur said. But she was looking down, picking at a string that hung off the Muggle jeans she was wearing.

He picked up a shirt and pulled it over his head. "You don't sound okay with it."

"It's just that, I'm afraid . . . I'm just being childish. Never mind." Fleur gazed up at him and smiled. "Besides, it was fun watching them wind you up."

"Thanks," he said in a sarcastic voice. "Are you sure, though?"

Fleur hesitated, but then she stood up and walked over to him and laid a hand on each side of his face. "You dealt with things last night like a grown up, and I'm going to do the same today." She pushed him onto the bed and grabbed the socks out of his hand. "By the way, I absolutely hate these, at least color-coordinate your socks with your pants!"

Harry propped himself up on his arms and rolled his eyes while Fleur dug through his sock drawer. She threw a pair that she approved of at him. "Dinner is going to be intersting tonight, by the way."

"Why's that?" he asked.

"The Flock Leader is coming." Fleur paled slightly. "It seems I may have done something that's going to cause a few problems."

Harry couldn't help but smile. He sat up and pulled Fleur into his lap. "I would thank you for marking me, but entirely too many Veela were humored at my expense."

The corner of Fleur's lips pulled up. "I know about the day in Paris, but you never did tell me how your Veela-chicks found out about it."

Her mouth still twisted over his pet-phrase, but Harry could tell she was getting used to it. Then again, he wasn't sure what she'd do if he told her how Medée found out.

But Fleur seemed to read his thoughts. "Don't worry, 'Arry, I know one of them probably had to kiss you to know for sure – just like Paige did."

He breathed a small sigh of relief, and launched into the story, complete with the smart-arse comments. That led to the story of his earning the right to find out about the mark, and the trip to Milan.

**X ~ X ~ X ~ X**

After lunch, Marcus and Harry went for a run, then practiced down below the gardens in the valley below the Delacour house. The rest of the guys and Tonks went with them to watch the training and fighting. Mrs. Delacour and Gabrielle had an appointment with Gabrielle's American friend and her mother somewhere, which left the house empty, except for Fleur and the three Veela from Durmstrang.

Fleur sat on the couch in the smaller sitting room with Azzurra. They could see Marcus and Harry in the distance.

"I guess I should say, 'thanks,'" Fleur said, her voice soft and hesitant.

Azzurra pulled her eyes away from Marcus. "You don't like me."

The fact that it was a statement rather than a question wasn't lost on Fleur. "That's not it. You've been good for 'Arry, and good too him."

Azzurra raised an eyebrow at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like." She ran a finger around the brim of the teacup she was holding. "When he left here this summer, he was hurting from everything that happened last spring, and from the things I said and did as well. He—both of us, actually—were acting like children. Now he shows up like that." Fleur gestured towards the valley.

"And you have a problem with that?" Azzurra asked. A hard undertone lined her voice.

"No, it's more than I could ever ask for, and much more than I think I deserve."

Azzurra turned in her chair to face Fleur head on. "Let's top with the cryptic stuff and just come out with it."

Fleur bit down on her lip, and thought about telling her to forget she ever said anything. But it was obvious that Marcus and Azzurra were important to 'Arry, and probably would be for the rest of his life, however long that would be – another issue she didn't want to think about. She owed it to him to have this conversation.

She put the cup down and pulled her legs up onto the couch, tucking them under her. "Last summer I realized I was a very selfish, ugly person – not Veela, but person, and I figured out that I had to change that if I wanted anyone to like me – let alone 'Arry. Then all through the fall, I just resorted back to the same thing.

"Then that week after he ran into the side the mountain, I watched the three of you. I couldn't help but notice how much you all took care of him and – and I got jealous, especially with Jaleena. She was so caring, so loving, and so beautiful, and it has nothing to do with being a Veela."

"You're a foolish person, you know that?"

Fleur jumped when she heard the voice from behind her. Jaleena and Médée stepped into the room and sat down in chairs at either end of the long coffee table that was in front of the couch.

"Put aside the fact that Harry is completely in love with you," Jaleena continued, "I can sense how much you absolutely hate this conversation right now. Yet you're still subjecting yourself to it. Why?"

She shrugged. "Because he cares about all of you."

"And you wish he didn't?" Jaleena asked.

Fleur started to deny it, but thought better about it. If 'Arry could face up to things honestly in this relationship, so could she. "In some ways. But I'd never tell him that." She looked at the three of them, her gaze becoming firm. "And I better not ever find out you told him either. He's lost too many friends as it is and doesn't need me making him choose between me and a new set of friends."

Azzurra put her cup down. "I'll ignore the fact that a part-Veela just threatened a naturally full-Veela for a moment and—"

"I don't care if you're the head of the entire Zekānōt. I will pluck every—"

Jaleena and Médée jumped out of their chairs. Each one of them had their arms wrapped around a full-feathered Veela bearing a wand and, in Azzurra's case, a small fireball in her opposite hand.

"Easy, it's okay, settle down," Médée said, speaking to Fleur in French.

But something Fleur couldn't name rose up deep within her, and she turned on Médée. Her magic expanded and crashed into the other Veela, pushing her back against the chair.

"FLEUR!"

She turned around to face Azzurra again, but the Italian Veela had morphed again. Her body had pressed back into the form of a human, but the wings remained. Fleur's eyes widened at the sight of the warrior Veela. She had heard the stories, but had never seen one, especially one that had come of age on the spot. Her knees weakened, and her mind went blank as Azzurra's magic washed over her, driving her to a position of submission. Fleur managed to look beyond her to Jaleena, who was standing behind her with her head bowed, obviously catching the penumbra of Azzurra's magic. And then it was all over.

She flopped down on her back and took a couple deep breaths, then looked over at Médée who was doing the same. "Sorry," she apologized. "I don't know how I did that."

She was caught by surprise when she heard Azzurra laughing behind her, and turned around to glare at her.

"Don't tell me you don't know about your own grandmother."

It took every ounce of Fleur's strength not to transform again. That was a _very _touchy subject, and Azzurra's grandmother was the one that led the Veela Flocks against her. "I do know about her," Fleur said when she was under control again. "Your grandmother threw her out of a meeting because she wanted Veela fight back against the wizards and Muggles that were destroying the continent."

"Almost," Azzurra said. "And by the way, my grandmother, like my mother after her, was wrong when it comes to keeping Veela separated. But my grandmother did more than throw your grandma out of a meeting, she had her removed from the Zekānōt completely. That is why your second cousin is the Flock Leader, rather than your mother.

Fleur was stunned.

"She didn't know," Jaleena said, stepping in front of Azzurra and helping Fleur to the couch.

Azzurra shook her head. "How could she not?" She looked at Fleur. "You think anybody, even a normal Veela can use a charm to put a dragon to sleep? Harry told us how powerful your magic is. That is not normal for a second generation part-Veela. You had to have known that."

"But," Fleur began to protest, "It's not any different than Paige, or Danielle, or Marie—"

"And they all are . . .?" Azzurra asked.

"My cousins—_Zut! _My cousins!"

Azzurra smiled. "All descended from your grandma, right?"

Fleur nodded.

"That, plus the fact that you just forced a first generation half-Veela to her knees in submission should be enough to prove my point."

Her eyes widened and she turned to Médée, but Médée cut her off. "Just promise me you'll use that magic to take care of 'Arry. You're right, we all do care for him, even love him. But we don't love him the way you do.

"And he cares for us, maybe even loves us. But I have never seen him light up like he does when you enter the room. So, as your little sister would say, pull your head out of your cute little arse and stop worrying about it."

Fleur felt a hand on her arm and she looked over to see Azzurra. "And what I was about to say, before you turned this into a hen-fight" – Fleur blushed – "is that you're being extremely unselfish for someone who thinks of themselves just the opposite."

"Thanks," Fleur said in a small voice.

"And now the warning," Azzurra continued. "If we find out the two of you are starting to act stupid towards each other again, we'll get Gabrielle, and the four of us will curse the living hell out of the both of you. Understood?"

Fleur looked around to see Médée and Jaleena nodding in agreement.

"Oh," Médée said, "Why don't you ask him what his favorite negotiating position is over dinner tonight, preferably while he's taking a drink?"

"Do I even want to know?" Fleur asked.

"This may be better in context," Jaleena warned. "Do you have a Pensieve?"

"Yeah, why?"

The three Durmstrang Veela looked at each other, and then back to Fleur. "Why don't we take the rest of the afternoon and show you Harry's first-hand education in Veela over the last few months," Jaleena offered.

**X ~ X ~ X ~ X**

Apolline couldn't stop smiling over the last few days. Not only was her daughter looking better than she had in months, and not only was Fleur finally in a relationship with a young man that Apolline had grown to love, but Azzurra Sala and her _Zashtitnik _showed up on her doorstep yesterday morning.

And to think, Gabrielle was only going to invite them for a day. Apolline's smile grew as she watched Froissé preparing the formal dining room for dinner. It was a little cumbersome to use at times, since the smaller sitting room was between it and the kitchen, but tonight was too important.

Anastasie quickly accepted her invitation for dinner, though Apolline may have forgotten to let her who all was attending. She looked out of the big bay window to see the Harry's Veela-chicks and Fleur sitting in chairs on the porch, giggling and laughing like schoolgirls. After spending most of yesterday afternoon and evening in Fleur's bedroom with a Pensieve, the four of them were almost inseparable. Gabby had joined them, but she was splitting her time between them and Sirius, who, along with Remus, Charlie, and Tonks, kept her in stitches.

Early this morning, she had caught sight of Harry and Marcus out back practicing their skills at dueling. It was the only time her smile had faltered. Something came over him when he drew that wand and it was almost scary the way he could use it now. It was no wonder Jacque didn't want to duel him. Apolline shook her head to clear her thoughts. Her Flock Leader was due in just a few minutes and normally, that hen was early to any—

A knock on the door proved her right. "Come in," she said after making her way down to the front door. "I'm glad you could make it tonight."

Anastasie stopped mid-step. "What's going on?"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"You're as excited as a teenage boy on an island of naked Veela – though hopefully not for the same reason."

Apolline laughed. "A husband and two girls, it'd come as a surprise to me."

Anastasie stepped in and closed the door behind her. "You still haven't told me."

"You'll find out soon enough. Any news from the Zekānōt?"

"Let me deal with them. If what you've said is true, I'll make sure there's little to no trouble. Speaking of which however, I need to speak with Fleur first, then 'Arry and her after."

"Follow me," Apolline said. She led the way down the stairs to the small sitting room that doubled as the library next to Harry's bedroom. "Have a seat in here. I'll fetch her and send her down, but please go easy on her. This is the happiest I've seen her in years."

"Apolline, she violated some of our most basic mores. After the last two generations of this family, They are going to see Fleur's actions as a clear disregard for Veela tradition. Either she gets to hear that from me, or she is called in front of a fully formed Zekānōt. Which would you prefer?"

Apolline lowered her head. "I understand. But please take my words into account as well."

"I already have," Anastasie said, and smiled just a little. "Trust me."

**X ~ X ~ X ~ X**

Fleur stood in hallway and took a deep breath, then stepped into the small room. "Hello, Anastasie," she said, and kissed the inside of the elder woman's wrist before sitting down across the room from her.

"You are looking healthier than you did a few days ago. Would there be any reason for that?" Anastasie asked.

"I think everyone saw firsthand last Friday, and if they didn't, I'm sure my mother showed them the memory in the Pensieve – two or three times."

"I'm glad, though that does bring up the reason I'm here. I did meet the young 'Arry Potter that evening, and I found a mark on him."

Fleur nodded. "As did a number of other Veela."

"Why did you mark a child?"

"A child?"

"He was fourteen and you were a legal adult, even by wizarding standards. Yes, a child."

Fleur shot up out of her chair. "Don't you dare call him a child. You and the rest of elders sit on your ass while those 'children' are dying in a war. He saved my life by attacking the Darkest Wizard in generations and you have the gumption to question me about marking the man that saved my life?"

"SIT!" The very air reverberated with power and Fleur found herself beginning to kneel down under the weight of the Veela magic.

"You will remove the mark and leave him. Do you understand me?"

The words hit Fleur like a curse to the chest. She stumbled backwards and fell back into the chair. But she quickly regained her feet and faced the elder and all her magic. "No!" she said, and pushed hard to fight off the Veela magic that was trying to force her submission. "I will renounce my Veela heritage before I leave him. Do you hear me? I'll renounce all of you!"

The magical push ceased immediately. "You're that sure of him?" Anastasie asked.

"More than I am of being a Veela, yes," she answered.

"Tell me why."

Twenty-five minutes later, Fleur was sitting in the chair waiting for Anastasie to say something. It had been dead silent for at least five minutes. She desperately wanted to fidget, or play with the hem of her shirt or trace the patterns in the couch, something to help alleviate the fear that was building with each second of passing silence. But she knew that the best thing to do sit still.

Anastasie finally shifted in her seat. "You're Veela magic is practically singing. I don't doubt that you love him, nor do I doubt that you told me the truth about waiting and letting him come to you. What I don't understand, however, is what caused you to mark him in the first place."

"I can't tell you," Fleur answered. "I don't really know myself, except that sitting there next to him that day, it was just the right thing to do, and I am not sorry for it. I'm sorry for the problems it has caused, for the ways which it reflects negatively against our mores and culture, but I don't, for a second, apologize for marking him that day, and if I could go back, I'd do it again."

"Even if he goes to back to England and dies?" Anastasie asked.

Fleur glared at her.

"Come, my little chicken, you don't think I am foolish enough to believe he will stay in France while his friends fight a war in England, do you?"

Fleur flexed her fingers, trying to stay calm. "No, but I am surprised that a member of the Zekānōt knows about something that's happening further away than beak distance."

Too her surprise, Anastasie started laughing. "I have to remember that one. Fleur, you know too well the prejudice of the Zekānōt. But just as it would be wrong for me to stereotype 'Arry as just another wizard looking for a piece of exquisite bird-tale, so it would be wrong to stereotype me as just another member of the Zekānōt."

Fleur nodded. "Speaking of which, what happens now?"

"Nothing," Anastasie answered. "I'll find the right Flock Leaders and get them to agree with me that it was a special set of circumstances. There was nothing anyone could do about it then."

"Was?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Anastasie scratched the side of her head and frowned. "Did I say that?" Then she looked at Fleur and smiled. "Let's have dinner, I can't wait to meet 'Arry again."

They walked up the stairs to the main floor and turned the corner. Fleur almost ran into Anastasie when she stopped in the middle of an entrance for the second time that day.

"Azzurra Sala? What are you doing here?"

Azzurra looked up with widening eyes. "Anastasie?" she asked, and slipped out her chair to great the older Veela. "We're here with 'Arry and Fleur."

Fleur smiled at the inclusion of her name. "And have you met Azzurra's boyfriend?" she asked.

"No , I haven't," Anastasie answered.

Azzurra took her cue. "This is Marcus, he's a _Zashtitnik._"

"Do I want to know why a _Zashtitnik _is in this particular house?" Anastasie asked.

Fleur's eyes darted back and forth across the table, but they finally came to rest on Harry. She walked around the table and sat next to him, taking his hand under the table and squeezing it.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"I'm not sure, but I think _Maman _is about to cause some serious trouble in Veela-land again."

"Really?"

"Yeah, you think your Veela-chicks or Gabrielle and I are good at it? Just watch."

" . . . And so we invited them along. I think their leaving tonight, unfortunately," her mother finished explaining.

Anastasie turned to Azzurra. "I wonder how your _maman _would feel about you being here."

Azzurra gave a benign wave of the hand. "Probably the same way she feels about letting innocents die in war because they're not Veela. Could you pass the spinach please?"

Fleur wondered how long it would take before any dish was passed again.

Anastasie pierced Fleur's mother with a glare. "Did you bring me here to open up old wounds?

"No," she answered back quickly. "I brought you here to help protect against new ones."

_So that's what it's about_. Fleur's insight was confirmed a moment later. "Both of you?" she asked.

"It's still up for discussion," Fleur answered. "But at least for part of the time, yes."

**X ~ X ~ X ~ X **

* * *

See what I mean?


	4. Chapter 19 Rejected Material

**A/N **This was probably the hardest cut I made, because it drives the story, has a lot of info that is needed, and has some good character development between Fleur and her sister.

It was the opening of chapter nineteen.

* * *

**CHAPTER NINETEEN**

**THE ENEMY ALSO PLANS**

Fleur strolled through the gardens behind the house and pondered the previous evening. It was nice having Harry in her arms again, and even better having him home safe. But safety was an illusion. What if he was attacked again? What if she couldn't get to him fast enough next time? How long could he fight the Horcrux?

Last night scared her on so many levels. Some, she expected; some, she didn't. One of things she didn't expect was the way her Veela instincts reacted to the Horcrux. But now that she thought about it, she should have known it was a possibility since the Dark Arts agitate Veela magic. Still, it took everything she had to stay in that room and push her magic into him, rather than ending the mark right there and disappearing from his life.

Fleur huffed, frustrated that she never even considered that her magic might react to him, not that it mattered, though. Her mind was already made up about 'Arry, it just would have been nice to have been prepared for it.

Fleur took a deep breath and decided to push it all out of her mind for a while. Instead, she looked around at the vibrant purple, bright yellow, and dark red flowers that lined both sides of the path. Their scents wafted passed as the breeze picked up, and her mouth watered.

Damn Veela instincts.

She chuckled to herself, continued along the path, and eventually ended up at the stone fence on the western side of the property. A few feet away, Gabrielle was sitting lengthwise on a bench and staring out over the distant ocean.

Fleur decided that winding up her little sister was just the thing she needed to brighten her morning.

"Mind if I join you?"

Gabrielle pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around them.

Fleur sat down. "So, I heard you tell 'Arry that you loved him last night."

"Yeah, and?"

"And I'm wondering how my competition is doing this morning."

Gabrielle rolled her eyes. "That's not how I meant it."

"Not at all?"

"Of course not!"

"What if I don't believe you? You still have your 'Arry wall"

"Stick your beak somewhere else! I just keep it up there to annoy him."

"You expect me to believe that?" Fleur asked.

"Yes!"

"So what was with eyes full of lust just after you hugged him last night?"

A pink hue crept into Gabrielle's cheeks and she looked away. "A better question is why did you even come over here?"

"I already told you. I wanted to know how my competition was doing!"

"Stop calling me that! I'm not your competition."

Fleur couldn't help but smirk. "Come on, maybe just a little?"

Gabrielle glared at her.

Fleur bit her lip before the smirk turned into outright laughter and held up a thumb and forefinger about an inch apart, then raised an eyebrow.

Gabrielle smacked the bench. "No, I said!"

She decided to change tactics. "What changed? Seeing 'Arry set you off last spring, and if the lead-up to your transformation was anything like normal, I also have a pretty good idea what you were often doing while you were thinking about him."

The pink hue turned red. "Are you having fun yet?"

"Almost as much fun as you had the day 'Arry and I left for Durmstrang." Fleur crossed her arms. "Now answer the question."

"I knew I'd pay for that," Gabrielle said. "Alright, you win. Yes, I still think he's cute, he's also more than most witches could hope for, and last Christmas, I realized that he had a body I'd love to see naked and sweaty six inches above me while I was on my back making animal noises; but he was meant to be my big brother, not my shag toy, and I like it that way. Satisfied now?"

Fleur shook her head. "Animal noises and a shag toy? Do I even want to know who you learned that from?"

It was Gabrielle's turn to smirk. "Danielle, of course. So, are we even now, or do I have to endure another round of this before I go back to school?"

Fleur decided to let Gabrielle off the hook, but before she could say so, she noticed the final touches of her transformation. Gabrielle didn't look much different from Christmas, or even last summer, just enough to be noticeable: cheekbones a hint more prominent, jaw line a hair sharper, and she'd grown another half an inch or so. Add in that she had legs for which most Veela, let alone witches, would kill, and there was no doubt about it, Gabrielle was stunning. And that didn't come close to describing the human spirit inside the little sprite.

But there was a sadness about her as well. Fleur felt a tinge of it at Beauxbatons, but not this much. She was just about to ask about it when she sensed something else, something deeper, something that was almost . . . dangerous. How odd, she thought, that it seemed familiar. But why would that be?

"Fleur?" Gabrielle interrupted.

Fleur shook away the thought. "I guess we're even, for now. Tell me though; is there anyone you are interested in?"

"Naa," Gabrielle answered. "The wizards at school are just boys, and the few that aren't"—she shrugged—"When Papa and 'Arry are my standard, good luck finding anyone that can measure up."

"Just don't lower your standards. You're going to have a hard enough time getting them by 'Arry as it is."

That evoked a big smile from Gabrielle, but it faded fast. "If he's still alive."

"If," Fleur swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. "So, you know?"

"I heard Maman and Papa talking this morning." Gabrielle hesitated before continuing. "There was something I didn't understand. After the battle last night, Maman made it sound like something else attacked him, but she never mentioned what it was."

Fleur kicked at the paving stones beneath the bench and thought about the best way to answer. "Um, I guess you can say that Voldemort's Killing Curse still affects him sometimes."

"What? How does that happen?"

"You don't want to know. Just keep being 'Arry's trouble-causing, adorable, little sister. Make him laugh as much as possible, and don't worry about the other stuff."

"You know that's not fair, right?"

"Fair?" Fleur answered. "This isn't about you and I don't care how 'fair' you think that is."

Gabrielle's nostrils flared, but she managed to keep her anger under control. "I know it's not about me, what I meant is that it's not fair to him . . . or you."

"Me?" Fleur asked.

Gabrielle nodded. "Why should I get to be the playful imp while you and he both suffer?"

She blinked, at a loss for words.

"Don't look so surprised," Gabrielle continued. "When you showed up at Beauxbatons, I knew something was wrong, but I couldn't figure out what it was. Since you didn't say anything, I figured you didn't want to talk about it."

A few seconds of silence ensued while Fleur tried to come to grips with a grown-up Gabrielle. "It'll only upset you, why do you want to know so badly?"

Gabrielle rested her arms on top of her knees and leaned her chin on them. "Because I'm an adult now, with an adult ability to reason and that means I might be able to help; because I'm already upset about what might happen and telling me isn't going to change that; and because two can share a burden better than one, and who better to share it with than your own blood and feathers? Look, I know I act like a pixie once in a while, but—"

"Once in a while?" Fleur interrupted.

"Fine, sometimes, but it doesn't mean I'm an empty-headed—"

"Most of the time," Fleur interrupted again. "And you're the furthest thing from being an empty-headed anything, but that has nothing to do with why I don't want to tell you. There are things you've yet to experience, realities in life that are dark and brutal, and some of those things I hope you'll never even have to know about, let alone encounter."

Gabrielle stared out over the ocean. "And, the things you've gone through . . ."

"Yeah, to a small degree, but not even close to what 'Arry and others have had to deal with."

Gabrielle thought about that and absent-mindedly played with her hair until it ended in a loose bun. "Then, teach me what you've learned, I know it won't be the same, but at least it's a start, and wouldn't it be better to learn from you now, than on my own later?"

Fleur shook her head. "I don't know. It involves very dark magic and things about 'Arry that are not nice. You wouldn't be able to talk to anyone else about it. Are you sure you're okay with that?"

"You're my sister, of course I'm sure," Gabrielle said. "I may not be able to help much, but at least you'd have someone to talk to, or someone to break things with when you're all a-feather."

A hint of a smile broke out. "You really did grow up, didn't you?"

"Yep, and you're stalling."

Fleur snickered. "And yet, still the petulant imp."

Gabrielle grinned. "Sure am. Now talk."

Over the next hour, Fleur poured her heart out: the battle the previous spring; what she learned about Harry's home life; what she did and what she went through at the Burrow and again last fall; her thoughts on the voice that was found in the memory reconstruction; all of her research on Horcruxes; and even her fear that she'd either lose 'Arry to the Dark Arts, or that he'd kill himself to destroy the Horcrux within.

Gabrielle listened to every word and held Fleur's hand through the rougher spots, though she couldn't resist teasing Fleur about the kiss in the bedroom at the Burrow. "Where does this all leave 'Arry?" she asked a while later.

"Waiting on me to find a way to destroy the 'Orcrux," Fleur answered. "And training to fight Voldemort, I guess."

"I still don't like that part."

"Neither do I, but there's nothing I can do except be there for him."

They sat in the silence that followed; each lost in her own thoughts, until Fleur pushed her hands toward the sky and stretched.

"I bet 'Arry loves seeing you do that."

"Do I need to have a talk with Danielle?" Fleur asked.

"Please do, I swear some of the stuff I've seen. . ."

"I can guess, I roomed with Paige. Is there anything else you wanted to ask about?"

Gabrielle hesitated. "Yeah, um, can I ask you a question about 'Arry?"

"Him again? And you're blushing?" Fleur held up her thumb and forefinger, almost touching this time. "Are you sure? Maybe just a tiny bit?"

"NO!"

Fleur laughed. "Okay, so what was your question?"

Gabrielle started fidgeting with something with the buttons on her shirt and the blush deepened. "I was wondering why . . . last night, I mean, why was 'Arry was so, um . . . excited when he came home if he was hurting so bad? He smelled like he'd just bathed in pheromones and when I hugged him, I . . . uh, learned a whole lot more about him than I wished to know."

"Did you enjoy your 'Arry lesson?"

"Never mind! I knew it was a bad idea to ask." Gabrielle pushed herself off the bench, but Fleur grabbed her and stopped her from stomping off.

"I promise, no more teasing," she said. "And as for 'Arry, his Veela-chicks just finished pushing a bunch of images into his head last night."

Gabrielle spun around to face her. "They didn't!"

"Yeah, they did, and I thought it was quite brave of them, too."

"I'd say! I've seen you hexed off."

Fleur chuckled. "What I meant was, they were helping 'Arry fight off the 'Orcrux's attack."

"Even so, a full Veela can still break the mark," Gabrielle said. "Not that I'd ever expect Azzurra to do it, but it'd still be enough to send me full-feather."

"You forgot that she can't do that anymore."

"What do you mean?"

That caught Fleur by surprise. "Didn't Grandma explain marking to you?"

"We were supposed to get together the day after 'Arry's Quidditch match, but since I stayed at Durmstrang with you when he hurt himself, we never got together. After that, we were too busy over the holidays, and then I left for school."

"Huh." Fleur thought about it for a second. "I'll let her fill you in on everything else. But, you already know that when you mark a wizard, you're telling other Veela that they're to stay away from him, right?

"Yeah, but what does it have to do with Azzurra?"

"Well, the mark is also a Veela's commitment to be faithful. If we're not—and that includes pushing images into someone else—our magic attacks us."

"What?" Gabrielle's eyes widened.

"That's what I meant by being brave."

"But they didn't cheat on their boyfriends! You said that Markus was even supporting Azzurra."

"That's true," Fleur answered. "And that's why it won't be as bad as it could have been, but they're still going to suffer. It's something that was added to our magic millennia ago. Veela were creating harems to strengthen their flocks. When the supply of men ran out in an area, the flocks raided each other. To put an end to it, a Veela would mark every man in her harem. That worked until the stronger Veela learned how to break it.

"By the way, do you know how they do that?"

Gabrielle shook her head.

"A Veela hits a man with her magic, driving him out of his mind with desire, then she makes sure he is very well satiated."

"I'd kill her!" Gabrielle said.

Fleur dipped her head. "Exactly. The stronger Veela in the raiding flocks would break the mark and either put their own on them, or pass them off to another Veela in her flock. Then, the Veela that just lost her mate, and sometimes, that entire flock, would counterattack and kill the Veela that broke the mark, not to mention taking dozens more men on top of the one they were after. The ensuing battles were supposed to have lit up the skies at night. Paige has a book on it if you're interested. I read some of it last year."

"Yeah, I think I am," Gabrielle said. "But how did we get from that to our own magic attacking us?"

"Some of the stronger Flock Leaders got tired of the fighting. They came together, formed the Zekānōt, and then figured out how to change that part of our magic so we can only mark one man at a time, and have to either remain faithful to him or remove the mark before we moved on."

"Wow."

"That's about what I said."

Gabrielle tucked a strand of hair that had fallen loose back into the bun. "Will Azzurra and the others be okay?"

"It'll take about a week or so, but they should be. I'm sure they're in quite a bit of pain right now, however."

"How much?"

"Well, when you went through your transformation that was your magic being as gentle with you as possible. Imagine going through that again, but with your magic purposely striking out at you in some kind of sadistic punishment."

"Oh, snap!"

"Snap?" Fleur repeated.

"Sorry, picked it up from school. A couple of witches spent the summer in Muggle America. They got it from some stupid song.* Anyway, I still don't get why 'Arry's Veela-chicks are being attacked by their own magic. They were helping him, rather than seducing him, and you said that it would make a difference."

"It does, and since they showed me deference as soon as I arrived, that'll help as well."

Gabrielle scrunched her eyebrows together. "Then how do you know they're suffering at all?"

"When I got there, that thing in 'Arry's head was so strong that even after I pushed with everything I had, he was still in pain, so I reached out to them and invited them back around him. I could feel it starting already."

"All four of you were pushing images?"

Fleur nodded. "Yep, that's why he was so worked up. He took a very long shower before he came to bed last night, too."

"What does . . ." Gabrielle's eyes widened and a grin creased her lips. "Did you give him a hand?"

"Gabrielle!"

The younger Veela squealed with mirth. "What? Don't act so innocent, Mademoiselle I-sleep-with-my-boyfriend-every-chance-I-get."

"But that's all we do, sleep!" Fleur said.

The grin fell from Gabrielle's face. "Really?"

"Yes! Who do you think I am, Paige?"

"I guess not, I just figured that since he's accepted the mark, and knowing how much we thrive on physical touch, it'd be a given."

"It's not like I haven't thought about it," Fleur answered. "But it just hasn't seemed right."

"And you're okay with that?"

"With everything else going on, I think so. But that doesn't mean I'm not tempted every minute of the day to rip his clothes off and ride him into the night . . . and through the next day as well."

Gabrielle stared at her sister, blinked, and then almost fell off the bench in laughter. Fleur joined her until Froissé appeared with a little pop. "Monsignor 'Arry be awake now."

"Thank you," Fleur said. "Did Papa fix the faucet for you?"

Froissé's ears stood straight up. "It being the bestest faucet. Froissé can even spray bad elves when they not be working to Froissé's kitchen standards!"

Fleur promised herself that she'd find a way to see that someday. "I'm glad, but don't be too hard on the others, okay?"

"They almost be trained, so not many showers anymore. Froissé need check lunch now."

Fleur watched the elf pop away, then held out her hand to Gabrielle. "Coming back to the house?"

"Might as well. Oh, and you'll let me know when you plan to saddle 'Arry up, right? I'll get the cousins together and take bets on who'll have the first—"

Fleur's Jelly-Legs Jinx bounced off the wall behind the space on the bench that Gabrielle had just vacated. The younger Veela was already up and sprinting back to the house, giggling like mad.

"Thank you," Gabrielle said once Fleur stepped through the sliding door into the smaller sitting room.

Fleur snorted. "For what, missing?"

"No, for being honest with me, and for being my big sister again. I missed you last fall."

Fleur pulled the bun out of her sister's hair. "I made a lot of mistakes, including being 'a selfish bitch,' as someone put it so eloquently, and your hair looks better down."

Gabrielle frowned. "Sorry about calling you that."

"Don't be. You were right, not that I wanted to hear it." Fleur leaned against the side of the couch. "The night of the party, just how much did you win?"

"About a hundred and thirty galleons, I had to wait 'till Christmas to collect most of it."

Fleur's jaw dropped. "Looks like you're taking 'Arry and me out for dinner."

Gabrielle mumbled something and looked away.

"What was that?" Fleur asked.

"I can't, I've spent it already."

"All of it? What in the world did you spend that much money on?"

Gabrielle handed over her wand. "This."

Fleur took it and marveled at the quality. There wasn't a visible seam or tool mark on the finish of the reddish-brown wand, and that included the four inlaid strips of a light-colored wood that ran down the handle.

"What is it made of?"

"Ironwood with a Hazel inlay. Grandma gave me another Veela hair for the core when I told her what I was doing. It's twisted together with a Dragon heartstring."

Fleur laid it in her palm and found it superbly balanced. "A wood and core matched for sheer power, another for charms and healing. You know what happens to a wand when you use Hazel wood and Veela-hair together, right?"

"Yeah, the wand will die when I die. We made sure there was enough Hazel to make that happen. It'll never work right against me, and it can't be used for bad when I'm dead."

A warning lit off in the back of Fleur's mind. "Why would you be worried about that?"

"It's something anyone should be worried about, isn't it?" Gabrielle asked. "I thought it was worth the money, anyway."

"Yeah, but, why so much?"

She took the wand back and caressed it. "I found out that first wands are subsidized. The normal cost is around forty to sixty Galleons, but Monsieur Ollivander made this one from scratch. That costs a lot more."

"Ollivander? Isn't he the English wand-maker? I remember him from the tournament."

"That's him, and you weren't kidding about his prejudice against Veela hair, either. You should have heard him when Grandma's rejected most of the Dragon heartstrings."

Fleur kept staring at the wand, feeling as though it held a secret, or more likely, a key to something that she didn't yet realize she needed to know. "What was wrong with your wand? And while we're at it, what is Monsieur Ollivander doing in France?"

"I asked him the same thing. He would only say that the war was getting rough. As for my wand"—she shrugged—"I don't know. I needed something that was more in tune with my magic."

Fleur looked her sister straight in the eyes. "You're not telling me everything."

"Who? Me?" Gabrielle chirped. "Rictusempra!"

Fleur shot backwards through the air and down to the couch. She shrieked in laughter and lost her wand, which somehow ended up at Gabrielle's feet. Gabrielle picked it up and walked out, leaving Fleur to suffer through the powerful Tickling Charm.

**~ . ~ . ~**

"'Arry!"—gasp—guffaw—gasp—"'Elp me!"

"Fleur?"

"Please!" Gasp "'Elp!"

He found her writhing on the couch and countered the spell, then looked down at his girlfriend. Tears of laughter lined her cheeks and her chest heaved with each gasp. His eyes stopped there. "What in the name of Merlin happened to you?"

"My sister, what else?" she answered. "She showed me her wand, then hit me with a Tickling Jinx."

"Huh," He tried to look her in the eyes, but it was almost impossible. "Maybe I should have tried that last summer."

Fleur clutched her stomach. "Please, don't make me laugh!"

He chuckled and sat on the couch next to her, sliding her legs over his. "Thanks for coming to Durmstrang last night."

"You don't have to thank me."

"I do. You're right. I acted like a git and didn't think about how it'd affect you or anyone else."

"I'm up here," She pointed to her face. "And my breasts thank you for apologizing to them."

Sure enough, he blushed, which made her giggle.

"I thought you'd be more brassed-off."

"I was, but I also understand why you did it. Tell me something though, how did you survive? Not that I ever want you to do it again, but it was amazing." Fleur managed to get her breathing under control—

—Which helped Harry focus above her neck, rather than below. "I don't know. When the first Death Eater Apparated in, Markus and I looked at each other, and then everything I felt that time you and I fought them at Hogwarts took over. Add to that my new training, and the next thing I know, Markus is dropping a boulder on the last the Death Eaters."

"We must have watched that memory four times." Fleur said. "Did you know that was the first time Azzurra saw Markus's Patronus? She gushed like a little schoolgirl."

Harry squeezed his eyes shut. "Please,don't say that."

"Say what?"

"You remember when I told you how I found out about the mark, and how Azzurra tried to um, distract me during the competition we had?"

"Yeah?"

"Last night when she pushed her magic into me, she . . . ah . . . started off by wearing . . . in my mind that is, both of them—"

"Oh . . . Ohhhh!" Fleur giggled. "Let me see what I can do about that."

Two hands grabbed his shirt and yanked. He fell on top of Fleur and she smashed her mouth against his lips.

He propped himself up on his knees and an elbow, and let his other hand roam under her blouse. The taut, warm skin held promises he only dreamt of, and the long, feral growl that escaped from her throat encourage him further, then he felt her hands against his chest.

She drew her nails back and forth, then up the sides of his ribs and back down across his stomach. Every pass moved lower, until her hands were gliding along the top of his boxers.

Harry struggled to keep any semblance of thought, but failed miserably when her fingertips slipped under the waistband and started moving south.

"Here's you wand back." a voice interrupted.

Harry ripped his hand out of Fleur's shirt, lost balance, and fell to the hardwood floor with a thump. He looked up to see Gabrielle staring down at them.

"Never mind, I guess you already found one."

**X ~ X ~ X ~ X**

Two days later, Harry relaxed on the small couch in the larger sitting room. Dinner was great, and he was stuffed . . .

* * *

**A/N **Parts of this made it into other chapters, or into this chapter. I cut it because it was just too long Chapter 19 was already almost 20,000 words, and this put it at over 24,000. I thought about breaking it into two chapters, but I had set in my brain that chapter 19 would be the end of part two.

I really like the introduction, however, and the development of Fleur and Gabrielle's relationship. That's why I introduced parts of this in the last chapter I published.


	5. Chapter 20 Rejected Material

**A/N **This scene just wasn't coming out right, and again, I had them being way to sexualized. The problem is that, even though I think 18 and 19 year olds with the type of attitude they have would act exactly this way, I just didn't want to go there in the story. Also, I wrote myself into a corner somewhat with this. I won't say anymore because there's future chapters that touch on things here.

* * *

He recognized Goyle and Crabb straight away, they'd grown since their fourth year, but nothing like Harry had. Next to them were two Death Eaters that he vaguely recognized from Hogwarts his first year, one of them was Terrence Higgs, the Seeker from his first year, and then a fifth about whom he had no idea, though his accent put him somewhere on the continent. Two female Death Eaters were in there as well, with an accent that came across hard, like when Markus and the other Zashtitnik spoke Bulgarian.

". . . And that was the third Muggle this month," Goyle said. "At least there's a lot more where they came from."

The others laughed. "Speaking of which, we should meet at my father's place next time," Crabbe said. "He owns a Muggle strip club up in Morecambe."

"Why Muggle?" Higgs asked.

Crabbe shrugged. "If there's any problems he takes the guy in the back and beats the hell out of them, then obliterates most of the memory, leaving enough to make sure there's no more problems. He also uses the _Imperius _Curse once in a while when a particularly nice bird refuses to be, uh, helpful after closing."

"Your father better never cross wand with me, I kill him." one of the females said. Despite his surroundings, Harry was fascinated by the way the young woman gave a quick roll to the _r_.

"Ease up," Crabbe said. "They're Muggles, he might do it to Mudbloods to teach them a lesson, but that's about as far as it goes."

"If I bend you over and shove wand up ass, that okay too?" the second female asked.

Crabbe put is feet up on the table in front of him and leaned back on the couch. "It depends on the foreplay."

The wizards all laughed, and the two witches laughed joined them a few seconds later, the tension easing from the room. Conversation turned to other topics and Harry learned where two other Death Eaters lived, not to mention the fact that both of them were too lazy to put up wards except against Apparation. Supposedly, they thought the masks and robes were enough of a threat. After a few more bits of information that might or might not prove helpful, Harry decided to end their get together with his own little surprise.

He eased himself to the open end of the coffee table, squatted, then slid the tip of his wand out underneath the robe and closed his eyes before casting a silent spell.

_Excaecatio lux!_

Even with his eyes closed, it felt like a hundred flashbulbs going off at the same time.

"What was that!" "I can't see!" "Get your wands!" He heard. Harry snatched his robe off before their vision could return, and looked around at the Death Eaters to get a better feel for them. Crabbe and Goyle were a bit taller and thicker up top, but they'd lost a little weight overall. The two Eastern European female Death Eaters were average size and build. The one that threatened Crabbe's father was pretty, but nothing spectacular.

Terrence Higgs was—"Who are you, and how the bloody hell did you get in here?"—yep, gaining his eyesight back.

"Wrong question, Terrence."

"I know that voice!" Goyle said. "Who—No! It can't be." He rubbed his eyes. "Potter?"


End file.
